King of Kings
by Fancy Pants Penguin Jiao-Jie
Summary: A story about Ozai before he became the person he was in the series; what changed and why, his past with Iroh, and his relationships with his family. This is my first try at really writing an entire story about Ozai, so I'd like to hear input.  :P
1. Shameful Weakness

**A/N:** Welcome to my new story! This is the exact opposite of my last one...but I couldn't help but write it once I got the idea, so I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome. n.n

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**Shameful Weakness**

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"Hey, are you going to come out?" Iroh asked from the door.

Eleven year old Prince Ozai sat at his desk with his back to Iroh, his schoolwork sprawled out in front of him. Although it was the middle of the day, Ozai had drawn his curtains and instead lit the lanterns that lined the walls, illuminating his room in an eerie, flickering light. "No," he told his brother, rubbing his eyes with his right hand while the other still held his brush, poised above the roll of parchment containing a half-finished essay about Fire Lord Sozin's strategy against the Air Nomads.

"Come on," Iroh said softly, "Everyone's expecting us."

"No," Ozai insisted more forcefully, his hand shaking somewhat as he drew the brush across the parchment. _The comet only comes once every one hundred years,_ the prince wrote as if his brother wasn't there, _Since the Avatar would be born into the Air Nomads next, he knew that he and his firebenders could draw power from the comet's fire—_

"Ozai…" Iroh started, but his voice trailed off as though he wasn't sure what else to say.

At the sound of his name the boy stopped. His shoulder slumped and he let his elbows fall onto his desk, his left arm landing on his essay. The prince knew that his brand new, flawlessly tailored white tunic would now be permanently stained with the words "comet's fire," but the prince didn't mind as much as he should have, even though he knew his nursemaid would probably give him an ear full later.

"At least open the window," his brother insisted, but Ozai only shook his head; there was an annoying sting behind his eyes. The young man had drawn the curtains on purpose, blocking all of the bright sunshine out of his dark, safe little refuge. It was summer, and it was very hot, but the prince refused to let the light in. He didn't know how it could possibly be so beautiful outside on that particular day.

Two nights before was the night that Fire Lady Ilah had gotten out of bed, although no one knew where she was going or why she was out so late; she then made her way out of the chamber she shared with the Fire Lord, and down to the main entrance hall. The family physician would say that Ilah's foot had become tangled in her long silk dressing robe. They'd say that she had slipped, her hand missing the railing; they'd say that was the reason that, when Ozai awoke the next day, it was to find out that his mother had broken her neck when she fell down the palace's main, winding staircase. When the prince came in for breakfast, smiling like normal, instead of seeing the welcoming face of his mother, he met the heartbroken stare of his brother and the emotionless glare of his father. Instantly, panic had filled the boy's chest; Father was never at breakfast, he was far too busy with the war.

Now he rubbed his eyes with his ink stained funeral tunic in an attempt to get rid of the itching that was trying to force him to cry. With a deep sigh, Iroh leaned over him and jerked the curtains open. Ozai was blinded by the white, sparkling sunlight that streamed into his room.

It was almost obscene to him that the sun would still rise, that the birds would still sing, or that the world would still keep turning without his mother in it; how could nature be so happy while his heart was so broken? How could life move on like nothing had happened, while for him, everything had changed? These were the questions that the prince asked himself as he glared at Iroh for letting the sun in but refused to speak for fear of the tears breaking out through his voice.

"You can't stay in here forever," Iroh said sadly. The boy still didn't answer, instead looking at his sleeve and rubbing at the ink stains. "Trust me," his brother said, kneeling down to eye level placing a hand on Ozai's shoulder, "I'm sad too, and I didn't want to come out of my room either." The boy looked up to finally meet his elder brother's gaze.

He was amazed. Somehow, his much older and stronger brother always seemed too tough and brave to want to stay in his room sulking. _I'm not sulking,_ Ozai corrected his own thought a second later. _I'm doing homework._

"But I did," Iroh continued, "Because I know that this is my last chance to say goodbye to her and if I don't go then I'll regret it."

The stinging behind the eyes of the eleven year old only intensified. Didn't he want to see his mother one last time before she disappeared forever in the blaze of her funeral pyre? He decided that terribly sunny day or not, he did, and he nodded. Iroh smiled sadly and stood up, motioning for his brother to follow him down to the palace entrance way, where the funeral would be held.

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Ozai's heart was pounding as he waited for his turn to step up to Ilah's casket. According to Iroh and the fire sage presiding over the funeral, he was supposed to "say goodbye," but the boy had no idea what that meant. He held his arms stiffly down at his sides, trying to hide the ruined sleeve from his father who stood on the other side of the casket, waiting for his sons to join him; in slow motion, Iroh closed his eyes sadly, sighed, and then stepped away from the altar. That meant it was his turn and Ozai's heart jumped up to his mouth. Slowly and mechanically he stepped up to the stone slab where his mother lay, standing on his toes to see her face.

Her skin was just a little too pale from the powder and her cheeks were just a little too red from the rouge, but it was Ilah; that was the same long, silky, slightly graying hair that Ozai remembered brushing his face when he was very little, and that was the same kind, soft mouth that smiled at him when he came downstairs in the morning. The only thing he couldn't see where the light gold, caring eyes that would sparkle whenever she laughed the laugh he'd never hear again.

Ozai didn't know how to "say goodbye," so he just stared at her. The hundreds of citizens of Capital City were spread out behind him, silently watching the youngest prince, but soon, their little chatters and whispers seemed to melt away and it was only Ozai and his poor, dead mother. It dawned on him that this is the last time that he would ever see her; it was the last of his last times with the woman who had raised him while his father was too busy.

He had wasted all of the other last times without even realizing it. The last time she kissed him goodnight was two nights ago, the last scent of her perfume had come and gone without him realizing, and the last time that he heard her voice was over. How could he have not known? If he had he could have treasured each last time. Suddenly, the stinging was too much and the tears were flowing before Ozai even knew it was happening.

He was hiccupping and gasping for air, the fact that he was being watched by an entire city and what was left of his family had completely flown out of his mind. Sooner than he would have liked he was being shooed along by a servant, and positioned to stand beside his brother, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to meet Iroh's eyes; he was frowning and his eyes looked glazed, but Ozai knew, with a jolt of shame that Iroh would not cry.

All of the worry about appearances was quickly banished when he realized that his mother was on fire. If he was on slow motion earlier, now someone had sped up time; seeing the funeral pyre, and knowing that what was left of Ilah would soon be gone forever, the flow of tears only increased. Then, he was being ushered inside, the fire still burning behind his eyelids.

Then, time slowed back down to the usual speed when he felt a hand clamp onto his arm in a vice grip. Ozai gasped and opened his eyes to see those of Fire Lord Azulon glaring down at him. "How dare you embarrass us all like that?" asked the menacing voice of his father. "Stop crying," the Fire Lord ordered. Years of conditioning to be the perfect prince told Ozai that he should listen, he would just get in more trouble and his father would just get angrier, but each time he tried he would remember one of the last times with Ilah and he couldn't.

When the tears didn't stop, Azulon gave his son a little shake, but to no avail. With a scoff he thrust his youngest son away from him and Ozai landed on the ground, shame slowly spreading like cancer to join the hurt.

"Father…" Iroh said, stepping up to his brother's defense, but the man just held up his hand.

"No. You know he has shown shameful weakness and disgraced us all," Azulon turned an angry eye on the crown prince.

"He's a kid," Iroh pleaded.

"No. He's a prince of the Fire Nation and it's time he starts acting like one, instead of a pathetic child," Azulon glanced Ozai, glaring down at him with rage written in his tired eyes, and fear reared up in the back of the boy's head until his father turned back to the eldest boy. "Until he does, take _your brother_ out of my site," he ordered before turning on his heel and striding away from the princes.

Ozai didn't move from his place on the ground, instead he pulled his legs up to his chest covering his face with his arms. The tears had stopped, almost as quickly as they started, and now all the boy could feel was hollowness and humiliation.

Vaguely, he registered the sound of Iroh kneeling beside him on the marble floor, and felt him rubbing his shoulders. "Do you want to go for a walk in the gardens?" Iroh asked. Ozai knew his brother was trying to get him away from the palace in order to distract him, but he refused to fall for it.

"I have to finish my essay," Ozai said, quickly trying to compose his tearstained and reddened face into a hardened mask.

Iroh's frown deepened with concern, but he nodded anyway, seeming to give up. Ozai stood up slowly, dusting off his white tunic regardless of it already being ruined, and trudged back to his room, eager to pull the curtains closed and get back to his homework. On a regular day it would have been nice to look at all of the blooming flowers and trees, but his mother was gone and his father hated him more than ever. The flowers should have died when Ilah did.

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**A/N:** Attention readers! Go call your mom. n.n


	2. Quitters

**A/N:** This chapter is subject to change at any time since the person I asked to go over it is a busy lady. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this installment, and please let me know what you think about this story. You don't have to review, but maybe shoot me a message or an e-mail just so I can get some input.

I value your opinions, Readers!  
n.n

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**Quitters**

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"I thought _you_ were supposed to be helping _me,_" Ozai said with a smirk, watching his brother stare at the abacus with a blank look on his face, pushing beads up and down the wires.

"I didn't realize you'd be cracking codes; I forgot how to use one of these ages ago," Iroh said, turning the device around in his hands before grinning and tossing it back to his brother.

Ozai lunged to catch the fragile, beaded abacus, and the smirk disappeared instantly. "This isn't even mine. Mrs Lao gave them to everyone in class and we're supposed to take care of them," he told Iroh forcefully, poking all of the wires to be sure they were still attached. He wasn't sure if the elder woman who taught math at the Royal Fire Academy for Boys would even do anything to him, considering he was Azulon's son, but for some reason the idea of having to go up to her with a broken abacus, explain what happened and then apologize just made Ozai cringe.

"Mrs. Lao still teaches there?" Iroh asked, amazed. "Wow, she was even old when _I_ graduated. She was Dad's teacher too, I asked him," the crown prince was twirling an ink brush around his finger, looking out of the corner of his eye to see if he could coax a smile out of his perpetually serious younger brother. "What do you think are the odds that she taught Grandfather too?"

Even though he was doing his best to ignore Iroh, intently staring at his abacus and trying to remember how to use it to multiply, Ozai couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head; when Fire Lord Sozin died he was over 100 years old, and Mrs. Lao must have been getting close to that. When she taught her whole body would shake, the students had to yell to be heard, and she would get right up in a boy's face before she could tell who he was. It _was_ pretty surprising that she hadn't fallen apart, or maybe just been forced into retirement.

"There you two are!" came the voice of Iroh's wife, Lan Ying, as she slid open one of the delicately painted paper doors and stepped into the garden where the princes were sitting. Lan Ying was petite with features that seemed too dainty and too soft. She had more meat on her bones than most Fire Nation women and yet somehow, that made her even more beautiful in Iroh's eyes; it was added to the fact that she was nearly eight months pregnant and looked like she was about to pop. "I've been looking all over," she smiled and kissed her husband's cheek. Ozai made a disgusted face; he had yet to meet a girl who he could ever imagine wanting to kiss. "Hi Ozai," she said with a bright smile and a little wave to her brother in law. He returned the wave half-heartedly.

"Well you found us," Iroh said with his usual jovial smile.

"Mhm, the Fire Lord wanted me to come get you so that you to go over some things for the war meeting later," Lan Ying explained.

Ozai sighed quietly, pushing the beads around on his abacus and pretending that he was working. He couldn't wait until he was old enough to go to the meetings too; history was his best subject in school, and what interested him about it most was the war strategies used by his forefathers. He had built up a small database in his mind of what made them successful and what led to failures but he knew that he could learn so much more if he could just sit in on Azulon's meetings with his generals. Unfortunately another thing he knew was that he couldn't go until he was formally invited and that wouldn't happen until he finished at the Academy.

"I guess I'd better not keep him waiting, I'm hindering Ozai's math more than helping anyway," Iroh laughed heartily, standing up. He kissed his Lan Ying's cheek this time, nodded to Ozai and left the way his wife had come in, but at a saunter and whistling a cheery tune.

"How's the studying coming?" his sister in law asked, peeking over his shoulder.

That annoyed Ozai. He hated the feeling of someone reading over his shoulder; it made his skin prickle and the hairs on his neck stand. He froze, waiting for her to move away instead of snapping at her; she _was_ pregnant after all. "It's okay," Ozai said curtly.

He breathed a miniscule sigh of relief when the woman waddled over to the bench Iroh had vacated and slowly eased herself into a sitting position. The prince idly slid beads around on his abacus while Lan Ying glanced around the garden awkwardly. Ozai was introverted before, but since the death of his mother that part of his personality had amplified ten-fold. Not that he minded; he hated struggling for things to talk about, like the always polite and proper Lan Ying was currently. The only good thing that had come from the loss of Ilah was that now no one expected him to live up to the same expectations as before, save his father. The Fire Lord's words from _that day_ were still raw in Ozai's mind and he took great care to be a strong, perfect prince like Iroh, even if it meant following all of the boring, restricting rules of society.

"Uhm," the princess said, "Are you ready start learning firebending?"

With those simple words Ozai's heart leapt out of the dark hole where it had been hiding. That was one thing that he was legitimately happy for. This was the week that his new firebending teacher would be returning to Capital City. Years ago Azulon had sent special word that a man named Jeong Jeong come back from the war front to take his youngest son under his wing, but then there was an important turn in the latest onslaught against Omashu; the elder king died. They could not abandon the push towards the city in its weakened state, and they could not spare the powerful bender, so Ozai's lessons were postponed.

When he heard that news Ozai's six year old heart had broken but he forced himself to understand that Azulon wanted the best teacher for him and would settle for nothing less. So, even though the naturally gifted Iroh offered to teach him instead, he waited, like his father wanted.

Until now. Now the push towards the center of the Earth Kingdom had slowed, and after setting up several colonies on the way, the onslaught towards Omashu was temporarily halted. Soon, Ozai would have his firebending teacher and now he smiled a genuine smile at Lan Ying, whose uncomfortable expression relaxed. "Yes, I'm very excited," he told her, and although his voice didn't sound it, he was.

"I bet you'll be even better than Iroh, but don't tell him I said that," she smiled kindly and winked.

Ozai chuckled. "Thanks," he said and looked down at his school work. He had seen his brother bend, and he was secretly anxious that he may not be able to match Iroh's skill. _I could be even better,_ Ozai reassured himself, pushing the nerves back down and focusing on his teacher's upcoming arrival and his impending lessons. He knew that he was much better than Iroh at math and science but that wasn't nearly so important as raw power in the eyes of Azulon.

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His heart was in his throat. Ozai stood in the middle of a small stone courtyard, wearing a simple black training uniform and off to the side of three other boys who were talking to each other jovially, obviously friends; they were all waiting in the training ground for Jeong Jeong. _Other boys_, the prince thought with eyes widened in panic. The way everyone had talked he'd just assumed that he would be receiving private lessons, like Iroh had. He didn't expect that he would be in a class with the other boys.

Ozai had friends at the Academy, but these were not the type of boys he usually associated with. While the prince stood feet apart, back straight and hands clasped behind him, exactly the way he'd been taught his entire life, these boys' movements were more fluid than stiff, and they were currently slouching in a small circle looking at something in the hands of the shortest boy. When he leaned to the side, Ozai could see the flicker of small flames that the boy was holding; showing off his firebending.

Then, that boy looked up to meet the prince's curious eyes and raised eyebrow. He smiled when Ozai quickly looked down at his shoes, pretending he hadn't been staring and before the prince knew it the boy was standing in front of him grinning. He looked to be a few years younger than Ozai and he had recently lost one of his teeth, leaving a large gap.

He performed a short traditional bow, but it wasn't long enough or deep enough to be appropriate for a meeting between a prince and someone who apparently held no rank. Ozai realized that these boys must not know who he was. "Hey," the boy said, "Is this your first class too? It's ours." Each of his t's whistled through the gap in his teeth, something that Ozai found somewhat ridiculous.

"Yes?" he asked, glancing to the other two boys, both of which sported haphazard topknots that were not tied by servants.

The boy looked over his shoulder at his friends then back to the prince in front of him. "We're from the Hsieh Home for Boys," he explained with another smile and some more irritating whistling. "Jeong Jeong came by looking for firebenders who weren't being trained."

"Oh," Ozai said with a blank nod, trying to decide if he wanted to tell the boy who he was just so he could order him to stop talking.

"Yep, I've been teaching myself some so I can join the army but this is so much better," the boy beamed his smile again and despite his annoyance Ozai found himself somewhat interested; at least he could talk battles with this boy without anyone (Iroh) teasing him or saying how cute it was that he wanted to be a warrior. "You wanna see?" The boys behind him had become bored of watching the new, stiff boy and were now talking amongst themselves.

"Alright," Ozai said with a shrug. He had tried fire bending once several years ago, but had set the curtains on fire in his room when he lost control. Ilah was the first one to arrive when her son poked his head out of his room and yelled for help, and with one wave of her hand the fire was extinguished. His practice had earned him a scolding from his mother and a week in his room from his father. After that, the prince had avoided breaking the 'no fire bending' rule.

The boy stepped back into an unremarkable stance that even Ozai could recognize as weak after watching Iroh's training, but what gave the prince pause was the boy's face. The goofy smile was gone to be replaced by a hard glare that made the prince wonder if maybe he wouldn't make a good soldier one day. With a determined punch and a step forward the boy shot one lukewarm fireball off towards the dummies used for training.

After his small display of fire the boy stepped out of the awkward stance, the wide grin returned, clearly displaying the gap where his tooth would go. "Cool, huh?" he asked.

"Kind of," Ozai admitted, finally returning the boy's smile.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the stern, commanding voice of the man who had stepped into the courtyard unnoticed by the boys; for some reason Ozai had been expecting an old, wizened man like Iroh's teacher, but Jeong Jeong looked to be even younger than the crown prince. The master gestured to the burned dummy. "There is no firebending allowed unless it is under my supervision. Who did this?"

The new teacher's glare was a match for Azulon and Ozai felt a shiver run down his spine. He almost felt sorry for the irritating boy with the missing tooth. That is, until the boy spoke. "It was him," he said, his eyes wide and innocent.

In shock, Ozai turned to look at his annoying new semi friend, only to see one of the boy's treacherous fingers pointed directly at him. "I didn't!" he started, but Jeong Jeong's face was hard and unforgiving.

"I cannot teach you if you're not willing to learn first," the man said. Ozai's jaw dropped and his heart filled up with that wide, empty, hollow feeling of failure. The boy without the tooth sidestepped to stand with the other boys who were whispering behind their hands. Ozai was too preoccupied to care. Would he be kicked out on the first day for something he didn't even do? What would the Fire Lord say? It wouldn't be pretty; the prince knew that much.

So then, his mind clouded with panic, Ozai said one of the two words that his father had told him never to say. "Please," he said quietly. The words: _Only the weak beg; the strong don't need to ask,_ echoed in his head, but his imagination was already filled up with images of himself kneeling in front of Azulon's fiery throne while his father blazed with rage. Would he light him on fire? Would he banish him? Would he make him do something else that was equally humiliating?

Jeong Jeong sighed, seeming to sense the boy's desperation. "Are you willing to learn, and to follow my rules until you have?" Ozai nodded and even bowed humbly, his heart still trying to beat out of his chest.

The firebending master looked down at him expectantly and with a jolt of annoyance that very nearly outweighed the terror, Ozai realized what he wanted. So, the prince said the other word that he was never supposed to say. "I'm sorry?" Again, the eerie voice of his father echoed in his memories:_ Never apologize for anything; the strong have no regrets._

The man nodded once. "So then, _Prince_ Ozai. You'll be running laps for today. Tomorrow you can begin training."

Ozai felt a very strange mix of emotions and it took him several seconds to decide which one to focus on. Should he be happy that he wasn't going to get kicked out? Should he be smug at the terrified look on the toothless boy's face? Should he be annoyed that all he was allowed to do was run laps? Should he be ashamed for breaking Azulon's rules about apologies and begging? In the end, Ozai settled for smug and thankful. He ran laps around the courtyard until his legs were burning and he knew that if he stopped for even one second he would collapse.

So, he didn't stop. He ran until Jeong Jeong dismissed the other boys, ignored the toothless boy's guilty glances, and then ran for several more minutes while his master watched.

Finally, with a wave of his hand, Jeong Jeong signaled him to stop. The prince fell forward on his knees his chest heaving. "Good news," he said, but before Ozai could wheeze out a reply, he continued, "You passed your test."

"Test?" the prince gasped, partially because he was shocked but mostly because he hadn't caught his breath.

"You didn't give up," the man said with a small smirk. "There is no room for quitters in my class," he informed the prince before turning to and exiting the training ground, leaving the prince wheezing on the ground.


	3. Betrayer

**A/N:** A very special thanks to The Mountain for helping me out with this chapter!

Enjoy! (Or don't. It's really up to you but I'd prefer you enjoy) =]

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**Betrayer**

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On legs made out of jelly Ozai pushed open the heavy wooden door to exit Jeong Jeong's training ground. The building sat on a small ledge of collapsed rock on the wall of the crater surrounding Capital City. He let the door close behind him with a deep thud, glancing around for the palanquin that would take him home, but there was no one in sight. The prince wobbled up to the edge of the winding path to see the palanquin bearers sitting in a small circle at the bottom of the hill, Ozai's transportation abandoned off to the side of them.

He bristled up with annoyance. "So, now _I_ have to walk down to meet _them_ since they're too lazy to do their job?" he grumbled, then glanced around making sure no one had heard, thankfully not seeing his master or any lingering students. A prince shouldn't be seen talking to himself. At the corner of the small clearing in front of the large, square training enclosure sat a bench which was partially shaded from the setting sun's orange glare by the cliff face. Ozai wanted nothing more than to lay down on that bench and rest for just a few minutes, but he knew that if he did he probably wouldn't get up for a long time. Then he would get in trouble for dawdling.

With an annoyed groan he took a deep breath and started on his trek down the switchbacks to reach his lazy servants. Along the way he kept his eyes focused on the ground and wrote a script in his mind of what he would say to his father in order to get the men fired. '_I had to walk all the way down myself,' _he thought. _No, that makes me sound too lazy he'd just get mad. 'What if I had been attacked on the way?' No, that sounds too cowardly._ He was still mentally running through various stories, trying to decide which ones would make him look the best and the servants look the worst when his eyes landed on a pair of feet.

He looked up from the basalt ridden ground to see that the person attached to the feet was none other than the boy from firebending class. His toothless face brought the weak, wobbly feeling in Ozai's legs and the raw, cold feeling in his lungs back up to the forefront of his mind, quickly followed by the desire to give the boy a few more missing teeth.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in his best intimidating prince voice.

Before the boy spoke, he bowed again, although this time Ozai could see his lips moving, soundlessly counting out the proper length and now he stood to look the prince in the eyes. "I was just waiting for you," he said with a weak imitation of his goofy smile from earlier.

"Why?" Ozai asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew that a lot of the boys at the Academy were only his friend because he was a prince, but that didn't mean he wanted to befriend every lowlife kid he met. Besides, he was still angry at the boy for making him run while everyone else got to practice firebending, the one thing that Ozai had to get excited about, and it was fun to watch him suffer a little.

"I just wanted to say thanks for not telling on me," he said, glancing down at his shoes. With every whistled 't' or hissed 's' Ozai felt his annoyance growing; and with each word from this boy's treacherous mouth the young man felt his urge to punch him in the jaw grow stronger.

"I did tell on you. Jeong Jeong just didn't believe me," the prince replied dryly, stepping past the boy and continuing on his journey down the crater wall. He didn't like this apparently orphaned, whistling show off, but he also knew it wasn't worth it to get in a fight. _I should just be content with the knowledge that I'm a descendant of Agni and he's just a random kid,_ he told himself.

"Well..uh. I'm sorry then," he said, sounding honest and hurrying to catch up with the leaving Ozai. "But if I got in trouble you know he'd just kick me out." When the prince didn't reply, only looked at him out of the corner of his eye, he continued, "You're a prince, if you do something wrong he's not going to kick _you_ out since of how mad the Fire Lord would be; me, I'm just an orphan." He sounded almost sad and the sullen, tired, angry prince felt a little bit of the annoyance disappear, despite the whistling.

He smirked, "You didn't know I was a prince."

"I got lucky," the toothless boy said with a grin. Ozai gave a tired chuckle and the boy continued, his nervousness almost disappeared, "Why are you in a class with us? I thought princes got private lessons."

Ozai's frown fell back into place. That was a question he had purposely been avoiding asking himself. Why _would_ his father put him in a class with a bunch of orphans? _Maybe he didn't know,_ Ozai thought, _Yes, Jeong Jeong must not have told him. That's all._ "My father wanted Jeong Jeong to be my teacher," he told the boy, then let his thoughts go back to that uncomfortable place. He _could_ tell on his new master, but then what if he got the man fired? Would Iroh have to be his teacher? Getting Jeong Jeong fired was not something he wanted to do anyway. Somehow, amidst the stern stares, the man's soft but angry voice, and the endless running, Ozai had gained a tremendous amount of respect for him. Something about the firebender just exuded power; he could make boys listen without yelling, and he could terrify princes without threats. He wasn't someone that Ozai wanted to betray.

He sighed. O_rphans it is, then,_ he thought, and then realized that the toothless boy was still talking.

"…so then he told us to come here today and make sure that we wear the proper uniforms. It's so cool to finally learn firebending." Ozai blinked slowly and nodded, trying to calculate how much longer it would take to get down the hill in order to distract himself from the fact that he was learning among peasants. Apparently, the nod was all the encouragement the exuberant boy needed, and he continued rattling on, "I could still join the army without being a bender but not the navy. I was planning on the army before since I didn't know if I could find anyone to teach me but the navy would be way better; that's our biggest defense against the Water Tribe." Ozai's ears perked up at the words 'Water Tribe'.

"Yeah, you can't get in the navy without being a bender. Since you're in their territory our ships would get ripped apart if we couldn't bend," he recalled the legendary battle of the Koyuk Straight. His father, Prince Azulon at the time, had led one of the first full-on assaults of the Southern Water Tribe. If they hadn't been able to melt their ships out of the ice that the waterbenders had trapped them in, they never would have been able to take the city, arresting all of the benders in order to neutralize the surviving Water Tribe members. "Did you learn about the battle at Koyuk Straight?" he asked the boy, preparing to brag a bit about his father.

"Oh man! That was my favorite thing to learn about in history! That was so cool how Azulon had them firebend at their ships instead of the ice so the outside hull was red hot and just carved through the ice like butter," Toothless-Boy said, and Ozai grinned, it _was_ pretty cool. "If only they had been able to do the same at the Northern Water Tribe."

"Their walls are almost fifty feet thick, I heard, and two hundred feet tall." In his mind Ozai could already see the towering walls of impenetrable ice that he had heard so much about. "And as soon as any of our catapults can make a decent hole their waterbenders just fill it back up again. I bet if my dad had gone they would have been able to do it," he said proudly.

The toothless boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, but that's when Fire Lord Sozin died right? And he had to come back to take his place?" Ozai nodded, still very tired but the boy's betrayal was pushed to the back of his mind and he was excited to talk battles with this boy, who knew a surprising amount for someone with no noble connections. "Is it true that the comet's power is what made Sozin live so long?" he asked.

Ozai shrugged. He had heard the story before, but he had no idea if it was true any more than a commoner orphan and he realized they were nearing the bottom of the hill. "I suppose it could be," he said.

"I bet it is. I think when the comet comes back that the Fire Lord should use it to either take Ba Sing Se or the Northern Water Tribe," the boy said, kicking at the ground.

With raised eyebrows Ozai nodded thoughtfully. There was only a little over 30 years until the comet with his grandfather's namesake would end its one hundred year cycle and return. "They should. I bet that if they did it in the daytime with the comet there the Water Tribe would be almost defenseless," he grinned and so did the toothless boy. "I think they should go for Ba Sing Se though. The Earth Kingdom is our biggest threat." Neither of them really knew what they were talking about, but it was fun to pretend that they were generals planning the war.

"But think of destroying the last Water Tribe stronghold!" the boy exclaimed. Ozai frowned, thinking. The Northern city really was the last of the Water Tribe's defenses; the Southern Water Tribe was all but defeated without their benders. As Ozai was weighing the options in his imagination, his fair-weather friend interrupted him. "Hey, weren't those guys supposed to give you a ride?" Toothless-Boy lisped and pointed to the palanquin bearers.

"Yes," Ozai said with a little sneer, realizing that after being distracted by naval strategy he still hadn't thought of anything to tell Azulon.

"You want me to go get them?"

Ozai raised his eyebrows and felt an amused smile working its way onto his face. He nodded. "What's your name again?"

"Zhao," Toothless-Boy said with another annoying smile.

"Well go tell them to come get me," Ozai said, slumping onto one of the rocks and rubbing his legs to try to work out some of the lactic acid. Why didn't he think of that sooner? What good was having an annoying little friend with no noble blood whatsoever if he forgot to order him around?

Said annoying friend with no noble blood now took off at a jog down the winding trail, seemingly pleased to have an irritated, royal friend. The prince wiped the sweat off his brow watching Zhao talk to the palanquin bearers and point up to where he was sitting. He held no illusions that this boy actually liked him; like most of Ozai's friends he figured he was just after a little political power and Zhao had already proved that he didn't have very high moral standards by happily letting someone else take the blame for him; at least until he found out that that someone else was Azulon's son. However, Ozai figured that if the Zhao didn't mind being used in order to gain a friend in a high place, then he didn't mind using; something Azulon would be proud of. The boy knew that his father had plenty of 'friends' and 'advisers' that he just kept around in case they became useful.

He smiled as the servants slowly got to their feet and eased the palanquin onto their shoulders. Maybe Zhao _was_ useful.


	4. Show Off

**A/N:** Again, thanks to The Mountain for going over this for me. Also, thanks to those people who subscribed (woot some people actually want to read this! That's what keeps me going xD), to the people who reviewed, and anyone else who had read this far. Please let me know what you think (message, email, review, other? *shrug*) even if you think it sucks. n.n

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**Show Off**

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* * *

**

"This is Zian and Huojin," Zhao explained, pointing to each of the two other boys in their class. They both bowed, and Ozai nodded, not really paying attention. He was anxious but doing his best not to show it.

"You really didn't miss much yesterday," one of the boys said. He was taller and lankier than the other but Ozai had already forgotten his name.

"What did you do?" he asked. Initially he had paid attention to the lessons, but the more he ran the harder it became to concentrate on anything but how tired his calves were. Today his legs were stiff and sore. Even walking up the hill after his palanquin bearers had abandoned him was torture, but he was excited to actually begin firebending.

"Breathing exercises," Zhao scoffed, interrupting the second nameless boy.

"Really? That's it?" Ozai raised an eyebrow. That was the last thing he remembered the boys doing, but he figured they'd moved on after he stopped paying attention.

The second, shorter and squatter boy nodded and spoke before his younger friend could interrupt again, mocking Jeong Jeong's deep voice, "Firebending comes from the breath. If you wish to control fire, you must first control yourself."

The other boys laughed but Ozai shrugged. It sounded reasonable enough to him, if a little tedious. Instantly the boys stopped laughing, stepping into line beside Ozai; their master had entered the training ground. Out of the corner of his eye, the prince could see Zhao glance over, then quickly straighten his back to match Ozai's posture. He smirked. It felt strange, but not unpleasant, for him to be worshiped like he was…well…Iroh, instead of the near invisible younger prince.

"Good morning," Jeong Jeong said calmly; either he hadn't heard the boy mocking him or he was ignoring it.

"Good morning, Master," the boys chorused with polite bows.

"Today we're going to pick up where we left off." Ozai could feel the boys beside him deflate. "Take your stance," the firebender instructed.

Zhao and his friends both took steps backward and raised one of their fists behind them, looking sullen; Ozai quickly moved to copy them. That was easy enough. He had seen plenty of fire bending and his copied stance must have been acceptable, as Jeong Jeong didn't move to correct him, but instead, spoke to the taller boy. "Keep your arm parallel to the ground," he explained, pushing the boy's drooping elbow up. "Your stance must be strong but your muscles must be loose and relaxed or your chi cannot flow properly."

Ozai raised an eyebrow, doing his best to keep his muscles loose without letting his arms or knees droop. It was harder than it sounded to be simultaneously relaxed and strong and the prince was still trying to find the balance when Jeong Jeong resumed his speech.

"Firebending is unique amongst the other bending disciplines. Firebenders must rely on their own energy and strength where other benders simply manipulate their environment," the master explained, examining the boys with a critical eye. By the bored looks on the other boys' faces Ozai had the feeling that the man may have been repeating some of his words from yesterday for the prince's benefit. "If there is no water a waterbender will be powerless; likewise for earthbenders with no earth. But firebenders are never defenseless if they know how to manipulate their own chi."

At those words, Ozai felt his anxiety disappearing and a strong, determined feeling rising up in his heart. Who cares if he set the curtains on fire when he was younger or that his brother was older and got all of his father's attention? He was grandson to Fire Lord Sozin, and the son of Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Lady Ilah; he knew he wasn't weak and this was his chance to show what he could be.

"Breathe in, drawing your chi towards your heart and stomach."

Ozai tried to do as he was told, but how could he control his chi? He didn't even know what it was. He didn't know what it felt like or where it was located to start with.

Nonetheless, he tried and Jeong Jeong continued, "Now breathe out, pushing your chi through your body. When you're bending, this chi is what you convert and manipulate into fire, but for now we will just practice focusing it."

The prince complied. He exhaled, trying to push the abstract, confusing idea that was his chi through his body, but he had no idea if it was working. _Perhaps I feel a little…I don't know. Something,_ he couldn't even finish his thought, since trying to locate the unusual, warm feeling made it disappear.

He breathed in deeply, and then exhaled, again feeling the strange hot sensation that flowed down his arms but it disappeared as soon as he recognized it. How could he control something that only happened when he didn't think about it? The prince frowned.

The sun was high in the sky, Ozai's tired legs were aching from holding the same position and he could still only make the burning appear in his veins when he wasn't trying. Luckily, Jeong Jeong seemed to think the boys had been breathing long enough and released them from the torture. "You may stop," he said. The boys all broke their stance, Ozai still sporting his frown and the other boys looking relieved. "Now you're going to create fire. Stand an arm's length from the boy beside you."

The prince had been hoping for a break as class must have been nearly over, but actually creating fire was good too. Now, he stepped off to his right. He didn't look to the boy at his side, instead keeping his eyes on his master, but he could almost feel Zhao's excitement. He tried to pull his confidence back. _I am not weak,_ he told himself firmly.

"Cup your hands out like you're holding water," Jeong Jeong instructed. Ozai did. "Now breathe, like you've been practicing, but focus the chi into your hands and out past your body. Make a small flame, but don't let it die. Remember not to tense your muscles; they are the pathways for your chi." He took the prince's arm, giving it a little shake to relax the boy. Ozai's jaw was clenched and his muscles were tight with nerves.

He exhaled, trying to relax. He attempted to force that hot feeling back into his chest and then down his arms. Nothing happened. His eyes widened in fear and a ridiculous, terrified thought popped into his head; what if he wasn't even a firebender? Obviously, he was, as proven by the burnt curtains that had hung in his room until his mother had them replaced, but his anxiety made him irrational.

Now he sneaked a glance to the side to see Zhao grinning and holding a small flame. Past him, the tall boy was holding a much smaller one, but at the end of the line Ozai was thankful to see that the chubbier boy hadn't managed to make fire either.

_At least I'm not the only one who failed,_ Ozai thought. Then he winced. _Failed._ His heart sunk and the small sliver of heat that he _had_ been able to build up melted away. He wanted to disappear.

Jeong Jeong saved him from his self-pity. "Well done everyone. That was a good first attempt. Remember to focus on your breathing." He waved a hand and the only two flames were extinguished; Ozai let his arms fall at his sides, feeling foolish. "That's all for today," Jeong Jeong said with a short bow that was returned by the students.

* * *

Ozai's arms were crossed around his chest. He didn't care that he was pouting, or that pouting was for children and girls.

Zhao was jogging alongside the palanquin, wheezing in between his lisps and whistles. "Maybe…it's just…'cause you didn't…breathe enough?" he gasped out. Ozai ignored him, keeping his eyes straight ahead, but the kid never seemed to get the idea. "Or maybe you just...were tired…from running yesterday."

Ozai was very annoyed that the younger boy had done so much better than him; it was one thing if Iroh showed him up, he was much older and more experienced, but a peasant with no training? What would Azulon say? "Do you—oof." The boy's cut off speech was followed by a small thud as his head disappeared from the prince's view.

Despite his annoyance, Ozai felt himself smile. Much to his disappointment, when Zhao caught back up to the palanquin after his fall, he didn't look embarrassed and had no scrapes. They soon reached the gates of the palace and Ozai stepped down from his perch, his friend of convenience leaning over and breathing hard. "I was gonna ask if you wanted me to help you," he offered.

Ozai's first instinct was to insult the boy and tell him that a prince didn't need help from someone like him, but then he stopped. He _did_ seem to know a bit about firebending, maybe he could help? His pause seemed to urge Zhao on. "That'd be funny wouldn't it? I bet everyone would laugh if we told them." Ozai knew he was trying to make a joke, but the smirk and smug look insinuated something else.

The young man's eyes widened and he felt rage bristle up in his throat, filling his head with fire. This boy was making fun of him. A common orphan was _making fun _of _him_, a Fire Nation prince. At this point, Zhao was lucky that the prince hadn't yet mastered firebending; if he had the boy would have suffered from some permanently disfiguring third degree burns.

Instead, Ozai just sneered at him, his eyes flashing. "I don't need help from someone like you." Zhao looked surprised, and his mouth opened but the prince spoke before he could. "Well? Go back to your orphanage. If you're lucky and my father doesn't decide to stop giving funds to Mr. Hsieh you might not have to beg on the street anymore."

"What?" Zhao asked, whistling on the 't.'

"Oh, some of the generals say they need more money and supplies for the war," Ozai said simply. He was lying of course, but the anger had clouded the prince's mind; he could only feel rage and the faint shadow of hurt. So, he spoke without thinking or caring what he was saying. Ozai's voice was uncharacteristically cheerful and he smiled condescendingly at the boy's hurt expression. An imperial firebender opened the palace door for him. "Go on then," he said, making a little shooing motion with his hands, before turning and walking inside.

He had one last glimpse of Zhao's face before the door was closed between them. The boy's previously joking or smiling face was twisted into a glare, and Ozai had the feeling that if he wasn't a prince and if there weren't two imperial firebenders and four other servants present he would probably already have a bloody nose.

As he walked through the palace's expansive entrance hall, on his way to his room, he felt guilty for approximately a heartbeat, before he forced it away. _How dare he make fun of me?_ he said to himself, letting the rage return to replace the guilt._ Besides, he almost got me kicked out of Jeong Jeong's class._ With that, Ozai no longer felt guilty.

As he made his way to his room to get his homework, he did however, feel unhappy. He was suddenly dreading the next day's class; surely Zhao would only work harder to outshine him now and he couldn't even make fire. Ozai was planning on going to the palace gardens, one of his favorite places where his mother used to sit and read. He still needed to get his homework done for the Academy and the garden would be the perfect place, at least until the sun completely disappeared behind the crater walls but when he slid open the door his bad mood only intensified. His brother was sitting beside the turtle duck pond, a small table with a steaming tea pot beside him.

"Hey! How was your class today?" Iroh asked with a smile that only served to annoy Ozai more.

"It was fine," he said, trying to think of an excuse to go back inside. He wasn't able to think of any, even remotely believable, excuses for why he would walk into the garden holding his scrolls and ink, then immediately turn around and go back inside so, he slid the door closed behind him. He was heading towards the bench that was furthest away from his brother when Iroh called him over.

"Come have some tea with me and tell me all about it," Iroh motioned to the area opposite his little table.

"Where's Lan Ying?" Ozai asked, taking the seat offered to him if only to avoid having to think of an excuse to refuse.

"She went to a fancy-lady dinner party with Marquis Chiang's wife," Iroh explained with a smile, pouring Ozai's tea; from the smell, the second prince figured it was jasmine. That was his brother's favorite. "Oh, that reminds me; the chef saved you some dinner."

Ozai nodded sullenly and accepted his tea. "So are you ready to fight some Agni-Kai's for the honor of our family, yet?" Iroh teased with his signature grin. Ozai snorted, staring into his beverage. "It didn't go so well, then?" The crown prince took a sip of his tea.

With a sigh, Ozai shook his head. "No." He wanted to tell his brother that he couldn't even make a spark, but he bit his tongue.

Iroh finished his tea in a big gulp, and then watched his brother, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Come on," he ordered, setting the cup down and getting to his feet. Ozai reluctantly followed. "I'll teach you," Iroh said, smiling.

The boy looked at his older brother for several seconds before nodding. Iroh _was_ a very good bender; he took pride in that fact and he often playfully bragged about his talents. As much as Ozai hated being overshadowed by his older brother, maybe the man could help him get ahead of his classmates, so placed his untouched cup of tea back on the table and stepped into the stance that Jeong Jeong had taught them.

Iroh nodded. He approved the stance, at least. "He showed us this, and how to breathe, and then we were supposed to make a little flame in our hands so we could learn to control it," Ozai finally spilled, his heart sinking back down to the place in his stomach. He'd completely forgotten that he wasn't sure if Iroh knew there were other boys in the class. Even if his brother _didn't_ know, he didn't acknowledge it; Ozai wasn't sure if he should frown in confusion or sigh with relief, so he ignored it.

"Well breathing is the most important part of firebending," Iroh explained.

Ozai sighed out of frustration, "I know. I spent hours breathing. It's the stupid chi. I can't feel it or anything unless I'm not thinking about it."

The crown prince nodded thoughtfully. "It _is_ hard at first to learn to control something so abstract," he said. "Most firebenders rely on their emotions to draw the chi out."

"Huh?"

"Your emotions are made of the energy that flows through your body, and they can be a very useful way to build up the chi, and then use it as fuel to make fire." Iroh inhaled deeply, and when he exhaled his breath was made of flames. "See?" he grinned.

_Show off,_ Ozai thought, but at least now he had something to work with.


	5. The Wulong Forest

**A/N:** Finally another chapter! I mixed up the format in this one into a sort of Zuko Alone structure, but I'll go back to the regular story after this. A very special thanks to Forever Fyre for helping me make this chapter into an entirely new, far less sucky format, and of course Samurai The Mountain for helping me fix it up. n.n. The poem is Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Oh yeah, and to anyone who has bothered to read this far: I love you.

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**The Wulong Forest**

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**

"We should reach the Wulong Forest in less than an hour, Sir," General Shieh informed Ozai.

The self-appointed Phoenix King's lips curved up in an unsettling smile and he relished the uneasy expression that crossed the general's face. "Thank you, General," he said. With a bow Shieh returned to his post, looking somewhat relieved to be away from the unusually happy Ozai.

This was it. He'd achieved everything that his father and grandfather failed to. He was about to finish the war once and for all. After he burned down the forest the will of the Earth Kingdom would be broken, surely crushing any thoughts of rebellion, just as his daughter predicted. Then he would be the one and only king.

Ozai leaned back in the metal chair that was acting as his throne and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, still smiling, and tapped his fingers on the steel armrest. The king knew that his good mood only acted to terrify the crew of the airship, but that just made him smile wider. He could hear the soldiers' footsteps giving his throne a wide berth; the fear in the control room was almost tangible. It took Ozai years to build such a reputation that he could put people on edge with his mere presence, and he treasured every second of it.

* * *

Ozai was twelve years old when he disappeared. He stood at the edge of the crowded room, peeking around the legs of a servant to get a glimpse at the object of everyone's attention. Fire Lord Azulon held the newborn baby in his arms, looking down at him affectionately.

"My first grandson!" he said proudly. He was smiling, really smiling, and that was what stuck in Ozai's mind. First; being anything other than first was nothing in the old man's eyes and Ozai would never be anything more than his second son and the future Fire Lord's younger brother.

It was Iroh who called him out of his hiding place. "Come meet your nephew," he said with a mile wide grin.

Ozai would have preferred to stay hidden, but he stepped forward anyway; it was only proper. He took the baby in his arms and looked down at the wrinkled little hands. Lu Ten was sleeping soundly, having tired himself out with all of his screaming and crying.

He saw the boy moving in his sleep, he saw Lan Ying's tired smile, and he saw the beaming faces of Iroh and Azulon. A strange feeling of dread and anxiety was building up in his chest, but he couldn't find the reason for it. He should have known that from thereafter he would always be in the background.

* * *

The sound of voices drifted through the steel door to the right of Ozai's temporary throne as footsteps approached. "…You mean you're not?" once voice asked as the footsteps stopped before entering the control room.

"Well okay, I am…a little," a second voice said. Ozai's interest peaked and he was momentarily distracted from his visions of burning forests.

"Exactly, it just feels wrong," the first voice said so quietly the king could barely make out his words. He opened his eyes and turned towards the porthole, as though looking in that direction would make it easier to hear the men talking.

"It's too late now; we're already on the ship. Let's just get this over with." A twinge of annoyance cut through the king's good mood. The mission hadn't even officially begun and already his orders were being questioned. There was a pause where Ozai imagined one of the men nodding before the latch turned and the door was opened. The gazes of the two men met the angry amber eyes of the Phoenix King. Quickly, they bowed.

"Your Highness," the soldiers chorused raising out of their bow with matching anxious stares; they must have realized he'd heard them.

Ozai weighed his options. Should he have these men thrown off the airship? One of the men was sweating. Should he think of some demeaning task to humiliate them? The other was staring at the king's left hand that still tapped the chair. Should he merely threaten them? He stopped tapping. One of the men flinched. Ozai resisted a smile, although he realized it would probably serve to scare them more. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.

* * *

Another two months passed. Ozai sat up from the kowtow, raising his eyes to meet his father's silhouette behind the fire.

"How is your firebending coming along?" asked Azulon's deep voice.

He gulped. Should he lie and tell him he was doing great? Should he tell the truth and admit that since Iroh became too busy with his new son help him that he fell almost an entire set behind the other boys? The young man decided that honesty was the best policy with his father; the consequences of lying were far worse than any amount of lecturing or anger.

He took a deep breath. "I am still stuck on the fifth set," he said, his heart trying to beat out of his chest in anticipation for the Fire Lord's disappointment.

"You must work harder if you ever wish to become a master," Azulon said.

Ozai blinked. The anxiety and anticipation drained away to be replaced by confusion and strangely, disappointment. That was it? The flames in front of the throne didn't swell, there were no words meant to humiliate him into performing better, there was no rage?

"Yes, Father," he droned, not entirely caring if his frown was visible from the throne.

"Good," the elderly man said. Ozai knew it was time for him to leave. He bowed one last time, stood and backed up several paces before turning around and exiting the throne room.

His jaw was clenched. He never thought he'd miss being yelled at.

* * *

"Remind me of your name," the Phoenix King commanded one of the soldiers. He couldn't be sure that this was the man who started the conversation, but he figured his point would be received either way.

"Lieutenant Hong," the man replied with another bow.

The corner of Ozai's lip twitched; this man was an officer, not just a soldier. At least he could take care of that. "Hm," he said after a moment.

"Sir?" Hong asked when the king didn't go on.

"I seem to have forgotten what I was going to say," Ozai replied with a wave of his hand. "It must not have been important." He smiled the menacing smile again. "What was your business here, Staff Sergeant?"

The man's eyes widened, but he didn't mention his demotion. He bowed with a frown and then signaled his companion with a nod of his head. The second man wiped his brow and walked past Ozai to give a scroll to General Shieh, who stood in tense silence along with the rest of the crew.

Ozai's false smile slipped off.

* * *

He was fourteen the first time he went into his father's war room. He stood in front of the curtain anxiously, trying to work up the motivation to go inside. Several weeks ago he graduated from the Royal Fire Academy for Boys, but he still hadn't been invited to any of the war meetings, so he'd gone to Iroh, who now stood beside him.

"Trust me," Iroh said, patting his shoulder.

"I don't know," the prince replied with a frown. His father didn't invite him, but his brother, the crown prince, did. Shouldn't that be enough?

"If you're going to help me run this country one day, it's time you start going to the meetings so you know what's going on."

Ozai let out a desperate kind of chuckle. He did appreciate that his brother hadn't abandoned him as fully as his father, and he knew that one day he would be one of Iroh's advisers, so it _did_ make sense.

"Come on," Iroh said. Ozai was still trying to get back the feeling of longing that had motivated him to ask his brother in the first place when he realized the older man was pulling the curtain aside and leading him inside.

With his heart beating in his throat the younger prince stepped into the room, which was full of his father's generals and advisers. After patting his shoulder one last time, Iroh motioned for Ozai to sit at the edge of the table and he took his place beside Azulon's throne.

They waited for the Fire Lord.

* * *

"What is this?" General Shieh asked, holding up the scroll he'd been given.

"It's a report," the man said.

The general blinked slowly and sighed. "Thank you. Why don't you just tell me what it says?" he passed the scroll back to the man.

"Uh," he cleared his throat and twisted the scroll around in his hands, "Just as we were entering the area over Earth Kingdom waters, the distress signal on Captain Tsen's airship was lit."

Ozai frowned, so did Shieh. Each ship was equipped with a torch that should only be lit if there was a serious emergency; this was the Phoenix King's one shot to harness the power of the comet. He couldn't afford for anything to ruin it. The general turned to the navigator. "Do you see anything?" he asked.

"We haven't seen any emergency signals, everything looks fine from here," he reeled out quickly.

"Yes, it was extinguished before I even finished writing the report," the man replied, his eyes flickering to Ozai's annoyed glare.

"Then why did you bother to finish writing it?" the king asked. _I'm surrounded by idiots,_ he realized.

"I-I thought you would want to know?" He coughed.

"Well I'm glad you saw fit to waste my time with that little gem of information. Anything else?"

The soldier's eyes were wide and the panic on his face made the king smirk. "And then the ship went down to water-level, like it was landing but then it went back into formation," the man concluded, his hands shaking.

Ozai merely raised an eyebrow; did these men really feel the need to come tell _him_ and the General personally that one of the airships lit their distress signal only to put it out, then went down to water level only to return to position? The soldier fidgeted until Shieh saw fit to save him. "Everything looks fine now," he said, "They probably had trouble with their furnaces. You should return to the lookout post."

* * *

Ozai was fourteen when his jealousy and occasional resentment of his brother began to mutate into true hatred.

He was breathing hard and trying to resist the urge to light Iroh's anxious smile on fire, which now faltered when he realized exactly how upset Ozai was. The crown prince sighed. "I already talked to him," he said. "He didn't know I'd invited you."

"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?" the teenager asked, his clenched fists shaking.

"What does that mean?" Iroh asked with a frown. He looked genuinely apologetic, but Ozai wasn't falling for it. The boy could hear his father's angry and humiliating words echoing in his head.

_How dare you, you insolent boy?_

"We both know you planned it. You could have just told him I was going to be there but you didn't," he said, his voice rising until he was nearly yelling. "It wasn't enough for you to be better at everything, or to always be first. No, you had to make sure everyone knew it."

"That's not true," Iroh protested, his eyes wide with surprise.

_Mock-surprise_, Ozai reminded himself. He shot another venomous glare at the crown prince before turning around and storming off in the direction of his room.

* * *

The soldiers bowed one last time before exiting the room, the newly appointed Staff Sergeant looking sullen. Suddenly, Ozai wished he _had_ brought Azula along, just so he could have her take care of all the stupid little tasks that he didn't want to be bothered with. Maybe she could threaten some sense into these people; he knew his daughter was nearly as good at manipulation as he was, but he couldn't have her there to get underfoot.

He took a deep breath trying to focus on his upcoming victory instead of his annoyance. He closed his eyes, trying to get back the excitement but his thoughts turned back to Azula's narrowly avoided temper tantrum before he left the Fire Nation.

* * *

"My decision is _final_," he told his daughter sternly. Never before had Azula been one to act like a pathetic child, and he had to admit he was somewhat surprised.

Azula was breathing hard and blinking furtively. "You…You can't treat me like this!" she said, her voice increasing in pitch and her face twisting up into a hurt and angry expression. Ozai raised his eyebrows. "You can't treat me like Zuko!"

The Fire Lord frowned. He considered punishing her; she was embarrassing both of them by throwing a fit in front of his generals and the entire air force. "Azula, silence yourself."

"But it was my idea," Azula complained, clenching her fists. An annoying, whiny timbre was creeping into her voice, "To burn everything to the ground. I deserve to be by your side!" He half expected the princess to stomp her foot but thankfully she had enough restraint not to.

"Azula!" Ozai said, raising his voice. Azula hung her head and just before he was about to order her to go back inside he realized that would only cause more of an uproar. He frowned at his daughter, deciding it would be better to simply find a way to calm her down. "Listen to me; I need you here to watch over the homeland." He did his best to make his voice kind, and appealed to his daughter's ego, "It's a very important job that I can only entrust to you."

Azula looked up into his eyes; her face was hopeful, but there was something else behind her tearful expression that he didn't really care to try to define. It was a panicky, hysteric kind of something. "Really?" she asked.

"And for your loyalty," he continued, "I've decided to name you the new Fire Lord."

Azula's face lit up and Ozai knew he'd found a way to calm her. He could care less if she was the Fire Lord; giving away his title was the perfect way to end her tantrum without taking her along. It felt strange to give up the thing he worked so hard for, but he knew that soon, the position of Fire Lord would hold no more power than that of the Earth King.

* * *

He was still quite surprised that Azula finally spoke out against him; it was one thing if his worthless son did, but the prodigal daughter? Ozai shook his head infinitesimally. When Azula glared at him, her fists balled up tightly, she looked remarkably like her mother, and Ozai was reminded of the last time _she'd_ yelled at him.

Ursa's voice echoed through his memory as though it was only yesterday. _You can't treat people like this! _shouted the ghost-voice, and he shook it out of his head.

"How much longer, now?" he asked General Shieh, with a tinge of irritation to his voice. This was no time for dwelling on the past.

Victory was within his reach.

* * *

_My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:_

_Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair._


End file.
